


i will do you no harm, i will try

by angel_deux



Series: fire up hearts that have grown cold [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Echo likes pranks and sitcoms, Emori is the sweetest, F/M, Murphy POV, Murphy finds out what anniversaries are, also this is Murphy & everyone friendship, and it devolves from there, basically i'm scared and it manifested in a 10k word love letter to murphy, everyone's basically happy but there's some minor angst, more like a 2.5 in this series than a 3, takes place on the ring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 08:09:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15577527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_deux/pseuds/angel_deux
Summary: Echo tells Murphy that Raven thinks an episode of this random sitcom is romantic. It involves anniversaries and tears and proposals and cake, and Murphy kind of loses it when he realizes that he's never provided Raven with any of that.





	i will do you no harm, i will try

**Author's Note:**

> my terror-level for Murphy in the finale is at about a 9.9/10, so I'm compensating by writing this very fluffy nonsense piece about Murphy feeling fulfilled and happy and having a good AU life.
> 
> Title is from "Wide-Eyed" by Cold Weather Company, and hopefully the rest of the lyrics aren't prophetic. 
> 
> This takes place after the big Bellarke conversation in "i can never be alone when all the gods keep calling me out" but before the very last scene of that piece.

The whole thing is Echo’s fucking fault.

They’re watching this pre-apocalypse sitcom about people who work in some incomprehensible profession that involves selling shit, and Murphy’s only here because Raven and Emori are both putting in extra time in the workshop, trying to figure out how to get back down to Earth, and dealing with his girlfriend and his ex at the same time is daunting enough, nevermind when they’re both stressed out.

Echo is always a safe bet, because she’s either training (so Murphy will get to punch some stuff) or watching old vids (so Murphy will get to snark and nap), so he finds her in the movie room and slumps down next to her on the couch.

“I was hoping Raven would be with you,” she says in greeting.

“I, too, treasure this friendship,” Murphy says, hand to his heart. Echo’s cheek twitches, which counts as a smile.

“It’s her favorite episode after this one,” she says in explanation.

“Oh yeah? Something cool actually happens for once?”

Echo shrugs.

“She says it’s romantic.”

She fidgets a bit, which means she _also_ thinks it’s romantic, but it’s not like she’d ever say that. Murphy responds with his most shit-eating grin, and she throws an algae chip at him.

“What’s so romantic about it anyway?” he asks. He must be in a good mood or something, because he’s actually interacting and not just slumping over and staring at the screen out of some kind of acute, boredom-based paralysis.

“Well, Sara and Annalyn have an anniversary coming up…”

“An anniversary? Of what?”

“Their relationship.”

“That’s a thing?”

Echo looks at him like _he’s_ the one who once asked if ice cream cones were real or just “legend”.

“How did you not know that?” she asks.

“Why _would_ I? Is it still a thing?”

“In Azgeda, we…”

“No, shut up. I’m not falling for your _Azgeda tradition_ bullshit for a third time.”

Echo shrugs, unbothered.

“Suit yourself,” she says.

He lasts another minute.

“Does Raven really care about this shit?”

“Am I allowed to speak now?”

“Shut up.”

“Mixed messages,” Echo says, sarcastically mournful. She shakes her head. “ _Skaikru_.” Like a curse.

“Does she care about it or not, Echo?”

“She thinks it’s romantic,” Echo repeats, firmer than before. She doesn’t look at him. “Now quiet. This is a good part.”

* * *

And, okay. If Raven wanted romance, she wouldn’t be with him. He followed Raven around like an asshole for months after Emori dumped him, and Raven never realized how he looked at her. It took him literally telling Echo she should shoot her shot with Emori before Raven realized that he wasn’t trying to get Emori back – and even then, he had to _tell_ her.

He told her he loved her the first time as begrudgingly as possible, and only because Bellamy’s Clarke complex depressed him so much that he decided he needed to have said it at least once if everything went wrong.

So John Murphy is not a romantic. And Raven still smiles when he walks into a room, so Echo was probably fucking with him. Cheesy romance is probably not what Raven’s looking for.

But… _probably_.

Things with Raven have been so easy, and so awesome, and he’s been waiting for something to get fucked up from the _beginning_ , so finding out that his girlfriend might want a lot more than he’s been giving her is almost a relief. Like, oh, so _this_ is the thing that I’ve been worrying about. This is the thing that’s going to go wrong.

He ropes Clarke into helping by telling her he needs a distraction for Echo, and Clarke (without question, because Left Behind on Earth Clarke is pretty chill and completely rocks) has Madi beg Echo for fighting lessons. Echo is weak for all things Madi and Clarke, so she takes the Clarke Robot to the training area, leaving the movie room empty. Murphy peeks in on them to make sure she’s definitely occupied by the radio call before hurrying away.

Echo stopped the show last night and switched to something else, because she didn’t want Raven to miss the episode. But if it’s something that Raven likes, he needs to know what it is. Preferably without Echo finding out that her words had any lasting impact, because he’s still not sure that she wasn’t fucking with him.

He’s desperately trying to remember the name of the sitcom, and he’s so intent on it that he slams open the door to the movie room and startles the shit out of Bellamy, who’s watching fucking _Spartacus_ , looking guiltily over his shoulder when Murphy enters, as if he’s been caught doing something embarrassing.

“You saw Echo leaving too, huh?” he asks. Murphy doesn’t answer, preferring to stick with evasive and shitty, as usual.

“I’m assuming you came to mope about the fact that she’s talking to Clarke and you’re not, but I need the movie room. You can watch whatever garbage this is later. Or take Raven’s tablet from the workshop. Pretty sure she’s not using it.”

“I’m already watching this, and she’s _your_ girlfriend,” Bellamy points out.

“Yeah, and I don’t want her looking at my viewing history. So get the fuck out.”

Bellamy’s eyebrows raise incrementally, amused without really smiling. Murphy has a deeply selfish moment where he wishes he and Raven were still the only ones who knew Clarke was alive, because Bellamy has been smug as shit ever since, and it’s infuriating. He kind of misses the moping.

“Now I’m definitely not leaving,” Bellamy says, folding his arms over his chest. Murphy glares, but he’s never been able to intimidate Bellamy, and he knows he’s not going to be able to start now that Bellamy’s arms look like they do (Murphy once caught him flexing in front of a mirror trying to describe to Clarke how big they are now, and he’s a fucking dork but it’s not like he’s wrong).

“We’ve been living up here for _how_ many years and you think I don’t know better than to watch gross shit on the big screen?” Murphy drawls. Bellamy continues to wait. “Fine. Whatever. Might as well humiliate myself in front of _everyone_ I know. At least your girlfriend is cool and didn’t ask any questions.”

Bellamy smiles, pleased in the way he always is when someone reminds him that Clarke is still alive and for some reason loves him. Murphy rolls his eyes and goes back to scrolling through the options.

He finally recognizes the name of the show in the recent viewing history, and he calls up the episode after the most recently watched one.

“Echo,” he starts, biting off the word like it’s a curse, the same way Echo uses _Skaikru_ like a knife without any real edge. “…filled me in that Raven thinks this shit is romantic.”

“What, the show with the construction supply company?” Bellamy asks.

“Yeah, no, this particular episode, I guess. Apparently pre-apocalypse couples gave a shit every time they made it a year without dumping each other, so they felt the need to celebrate their anniversaries or whatever.”

“Pretty sure they celebrated anniversaries on the Ark, too,” Bellamy points out. Murphy gestures to himself in exasperation before turning his attention back to the screen as the episode begins with a “previously on…” reminder that Sara and Annalyn have been dating for a while now.

“Apparently I know jack about relationships. Go figure.”

“What’s the plan, here? You copy whatever they do to celebrate their anniversary in this episode? Because we’re pretty limited for options.”

“No shit. I’m just looking for a little inspiration, okay?”

Bellamy settles in on the couch, shrugging.

“Fair enough,” he says.

* * *

Roughly twenty-two minutes later, they’re both sort of freaking out.

Murphy can tell Bellamy’s losing it a little because Bellamy has done the thing he always does when he’s stressed, where he runs his hands through his hair so much that it sticks up weird. And he’s all hunched over with his elbows on his knees, jaw clenched, eyes wild. Murphy’s rewinding to the monologue at the beginning of the ridiculously convoluted anniversary celebration. Annalyn talking to Sara about the first time they met. It’s cheesy and terrible, but Murphy finds himself leaning in closer to take in as much as he can of the emotional delivery.

“People always say it’s impossible to fall in love at first sight. So maybe it wasn’t love. But it was _something_. I saw you, and it was like you were the only one in neon color, and everyone else was gray. I couldn’t believe that someone like you existed. I don’t know if you remember, but I had an extra coffee with me that day, and when I offered it to you, and you smiled at me, I could feel my heart thump extra hard in my chest. And I knew that I would love you. When I went with you to…”

“I fucking _shot her_ ,” Murphy whispers incredulously, spinning to face Bellamy, his hands on his head.

“I’m pretty sure I threatened to cut off Clarke’s hand at one point!”

“Shut up! You don’t get to freak out about this shit. I literally _shot my girlfriend_. Clarke’s done plenty to you that sucks worse than a threat you were always gonna wimp out on. Raven’s fucking perfect, and I fucking shot her! My thing is worse! _Fuck_!”

Murphy exits the episode, unable to hear Sara’s breathy sobs and exclamations of love one more time.

“It doesn’t have to be exactly like that,” Bellamy reasons.

“I was looking for inspiration, and what I got was a speech about two people falling in love like normal fucking people, and Raven thinks it’s _romantic_!” He leans in closer to Bellamy, pointing at his own chest with every word for emphasis. “I. Shot. Her.”

“What was your first impression of her? Maybe that’s safer.”

“Have you _seen_ her? My first impression was ‘holy shit, Earth is raining super hot chicks and how the _fuck_ did she end up with fucking Spacewalker?’”

“Maybe leave off the mention of Finn, but other than that, it’s not…unsalvageable?”

“What am I even talking to _you_ about this for? You had to literally leave the planet to make any headway with Clarke.”

“We were moving _towards_ something, I keep telling you,” Bellamy sighs.

“And it doesn’t matter, because none of that anniversary shit works for us. I can’t take her to the first place we met, because it’s probably a fucking crater. She’d laugh me off the ring if I tried to say more than three sincere sentences in a row. I can’t buy her anything nice. Or, like, anything at all. I can’t do shit for her.”

Which, now that he’s saying it out loud, is probably the biggest issue.

Bellamy’s girlfriend is a single parent raising a teenager with literally no one else on the planet, so it’s no surprise that it looks like Murphy’s words land pretty hard with him, too.  

* * *

Like, okay. Why _is_ Raven with him?

Sure, there’s a pretty brutal lack of options on the ring, so mathematically it makes sense that she’d give him a shot at some point. Out of boredom if not anything else. But she laughs at his jokes and seems happy when she sees him, and even before they were banging she didn’t seem to have an issue spending like 60% of her time with him, so she at least definitely _likes_ him, awesome sex aside.

And he gets that on some level they make sense, in the same way he and Emori did. He and Emori are both survivors, both scavengers, both cagey and reluctant to admit to needing affection. And he and Raven are both this weird blend of optimistic and nihilistic. She tends towards self-confidence and he tends towards self-loathing, but they swap sides often enough that it feels like they’ve got some sort of cosmic balancing act going on. And they _get_ each other. It’s not like he doesn’t know that.

It’s just that romantic shit, the kind of romantic shit that Raven apparently finds romantic, isn’t about weird wordless vibes and “it just works, I guess”. It’s about gestures and meaning and about completing each other in a way that makes sense.

And it’s, look, he’s fully aware that the whole thing is stupid. They are seven people hanging out in orbit above a planet that has two people living on the surface. The fact that they’re still alive, as a species, is insane. The fact that he somehow met _one_ person to love, survived a second apocalypse, got dumped by her, and found _another_ person to love in that same pool of seven is the kind of shit that even the old movies wouldn’t try to pull. So he should be fucking grateful and not push it. Don’t ask why Raven likes him. Don’t try to change anything.

It’s just that he has this need, this weird compulsion he fucking hates. It’s like how Bellamy fixes his hair every time the Clarke Robot makes a sound. Or like how Monty still straightens his posture when Harper enters a room even though she knows how much he slouches and still loves the adorable dweeb. It’s something that makes no sense but he feels it anyway: he wants Raven to think he’s romantic. He wants Raven to have romantic shit for herself. He just wants Raven to be fucking _happy_ , and he wants to be the one who made her that way. Because their relationship on Earth started with him semi-accidentally fucking up her life, and as far as he’s concerned he could spend the rest of his days happily trying to make up for that.

It goes all the way back to the dropship, the two of them bleeding out together. He just wants to make it _better_ , and even though he’s nothing like the boy he was when they shared those weird hours together, the impulse to make it better remains.

What he and Raven have is great. But if she needs something more from him, he’s going to do whatever he can to give it to her.

* * *

It takes a while for him to give it a real shot. Which is plainly unsurprising to Bellamy, who keeps catching him with judgmental looks. But it’s not like he’s coming up with any ideas, either, so Murphy just glares back at him.

He puts Bellamy off the scent by reminding him that he and Clarke have been back in radio contact and technically together for about a year now, and then Bellamy’s judgmental glares disappear and are replaced with a vaguely anxious desperation that Murphy refuses to feel bad about.

* * *

Bellamy was the one who said it, and it’s true: there’s a definite lack of options. The episode had a bunch of shit like expensive jewelry and a key to Annalyn’s apartment and a walk by the waterfront, but none of that is possible here on the ring.

He’s not sure why he asks Clarke.

Just, she’s Clarke. She solves problems. She now exists in his mind as a small, oblong robot that Raven drew eyes and oversized lips on with permanent marker, which seems in the realm of Jiminy Cricket. A small, advice-dispensing creature.

So he starts claiming the Clarke Robot more often, sneaking her away from the common room before Bellamy can, carrying her around to all his favorite haunts so he might have the chance to talk to her in private. And the more he does it without actually getting to talk to her, the more he questions it. So Clarke’s parents had a stable relationship for most of her early life, and that seems like a good foundation to start on, but her own relationships, as far as he’s aware, never outlasted a month. And short, intense flings that end in death and heartbreak are not a great foundation. Her longest thing is whatever long distance radio sex she’s been having with Bellamy, and that’s not really what he’s looking for in terms of advice. Like, “hate each other but then become best friends and one of you pine from afar while the other one realizes their feelings only after the world has ended” isn’t a great model for success. Murphy has, shockingly, had more luck just being himself. He managed to make _two_ amazing women like him. Bellamy and Clarke just barely got each other.

But it’s _Clarke_. It’s been a long time since the dropship days, but sometimes he feels like she’s still the person who let him live when Bellamy would have killed him, who gave him another chance (and another, and another, and another, despite what a dick he was). She’s just the natural person to go to for advice, and she’s mostly not an asshole.

* * *

“You’re a fucking asshole,” he says.

_Mostly_.

“What? Seems pretty obvious to me.”

“You’re fucking surrounded by flowers.”

“Mhm.”

“I can just _see_ the smug fucking look on your face, Griffin, and I’m gonna…”

“Are you talking to Clarke?”

Bellamy’s head appearing suddenly in his doorway should be unsurprising by this point. Every time someone’s talking to Clarke there’s like a countdown to when Bellamy just happens by, like his dick is magnetized to her voice.

“Fuck _off_ , Blake. I’ll get her to you in a minute. Jesus.”

“Hi, Bellamy!” Clarke greets cheerfully.

“Hey!”

“Shut the door at least, fuck. I’m asking Clarke what I should do for Raven.”

Bellamy’s face does the muted panic thing it does where he goes momentarily wide-eyed and then mostly blank, and Murphy rolls his eyes at him, dodging when Bellamy swats at him to get him to move over on the bed. But at least he locked the door behind him, so there’s that.

“I suggested flowers,” Clarke says, pleased with herself, not realizing that Bellamy is looking just slightly nauseas, like he thinks Murphy’s given away the fact that they’re thinking about anniversaries up here a lot more often than they used to.

“Yeah, a brilliant idea, obviously,” Murphy says. To put Bellamy out of his misery, he says, “I told her I wanted to do something nice for Raven because I love her, no special reason.” Because he knows that Bellamy has been hard at work writing some dumb myth-style story about he and Clarke being separated but still being in love, and if Murphy had a _hope_ of writing something that made the remotest amount of sense, maybe he’d be mad that Bellamy thought of a good anniversary gift before he did, but he can’t be that angry about it.

Bellamy looks relieved, and manages to say something like “flowers, yeah, those are good” before he has to half-punch Murphy for how hard Murphy’s trying not to laugh.

“What about making her something to eat?” Clarke asks. “You’re a great cook!”

“All we have is fucking algae!” Murphy reminds her, practically shouting. Clarke is laughing, and there’s another set of giggles in the background. “Oh, fucking great. All three Griffin-Blakes are here to compound my misery.”

“Take her to see a sunset,” Clarke suggests brightly, and Bellamy laughs along with her and Madi, but he snatches the Clarke Robot like he thinks Murphy’s actually going to carry through on his constant threats to smash it.

* * *

The food idea is obviously a bust, but he goes to ask Monty about it anyway, because Monty’s actually _nice_ , and because he’s the second smartest person on the ring. If anyone might know how to whip something up, it’s him.

“As far as flavor goes, there’s not much I can do,” he says apologetically when Murphy corners him one evening. Harper and Raven and Emori are shouting something at the screen in the movie room, probably watching an old soccer game, and he can hear Echo and Bellamy and the tinny shouts of Madi from the Clarke Robot, which means they’re probably working out. Monty’s rarely without Harper, and this feels like a vital opportunity.

He _does_ feel a little bad at how obviously rattled Monty was when Murphy shoved him into a storage closet, but at least Monty perked right up again when Murphy explained what it was about.

“I figured a cake was out of the question, but I had to ask,” he says, unwilling to admit his disappointment. “What do you and Harper usually do? If anyone celebrates this shit, it’d be you two. You’re basically married.”

“We, uh. It’s kind of stupid. And I feel like it doesn’t count if you steal my idea anyway.”

“I’m not gonna steal it. I just need a jumping off point. I figure I’ll get there eventually.”

Monty still seems a little hesitant, and sometimes when Monty looks at him, Murphy still feels like the old Murphy, the one who was a dick to this kid. It never lasts long, because he knows Monty is a forgiving person, and he knows they’re friends now, but _still_.

Finally, Monty says, “okay, well. We sort of picked a random date for our anniversary, because keeping track wasn’t our top priority down there. Or here.”

“Right, no shit. I don’t even know what today is.”

“Exactly. But, um, we make it a point to be extra nice to each other that whole week. Do little things for each other. It turned into a competition around year two, and now it’s actually kind of savage? Like we try to outdo each other with niceness, and we keep track of who’s done more nice things, and we have a running list of who wins each year.”

“That sounds exactly like something you two would do,” Murphy sighs, disgusted. Sort of not disgusted. Which makes him even more disgusted. “ _Adorable_.”

Monty looks pleased with the reluctant praise and reveals, “last year I woke up early three days in a row to do all of Harper’s chores before she could. Early rising is her weak spot.”

“Wouldn’t be a bad idea if I wasn’t, you know, incapable of doing _anything_ Reyes does around here.”

“Yeah, true,” Monty sighs. “Did you and Emori ever do anything?”

“Fuck no. I didn’t even realize people kept track of this. This is all Echo’s fault.”

“Did she at least give you any ideas? She’s pretty clever. And she knows _all_ the pop culture tricks.”

“I’m afraid to ask her. She’s gonna trick me into doing something dumb by telling me it’s something Azgeda warriors used to do.”

“Well, at least it would be an idea,” Monty points out. He seemed put off to be asked about this earlier, but now it’s clear he feels _involved_ , and that’s sort of nice. Just like it was sort of nice when Bellamy got involved, too. Sort of nice and sort of annoying, because Murphy has started to get the hang of being part of a family, but it’s still, in the grand scheme of his life, new enough to chafe.

“You’re not wrong,” he says, slinging a fond arm over Monty’s shoulders. “I’ll let you know how it goes so you can laugh at me.”

“I can’t wait,” Monty says.

* * *

He asks Harper when he finds her in the kitchen the following morning, mostly because she’s _also_ nice, and because he thinks she’s underrated as far as good ideas go. She has a tendency towards quiet brilliance, and at least she’s funny and will give him shit while also being generally kind about it.

“Monty already told me about your thing,” he says once he’s given her the general rundown of the problem. “But that doesn’t really work for me.”

“Right, we don’t want to all be vaporized if you try to do Raven’s chores,” Harper says thoughtfully, and he nods, encouraged by the fact that she’s on the same page with him for this. “What about just doing nice things for her in general? Helping her out in the workshop, giving her a massage, eating her out.”

He chokes on nothing, sputtering into a laugh that threatens to draw attention from the other rooms. There’s not a lot of entertainment up here. Laughter brings people running, desperate for something to keep their attention.

“Jesus, Harper,” he says. She shrugs, all innocence, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she fills a glass with water and then heads back to the hall.

“It’s just a suggestion,” she says.

“For the record, it wouldn’t be very special,” he shouts after her, needing her to know this. It’s a matter of pride, okay? “Because I do it all the fucking time.”

“Aww,” Harper says sweetly, turning back to look at him once before leaving the room. “I’m glad to hear it, Murphy.”

* * *

Echo feels almost like a last resort.

_Almost_ because technically there’s still Emori, but it’s so far from an option that it doesn’t even count.

Also, Bellamy would probably be his literal last choice, and it was only proximity and bad luck that led to him being the first.

He briefly wonders if Emori wouldn’t be such a bad idea when he sees the smug look on Echo’s face, though.

“Looking for anything?” she asks.

She’s lounging on the couch in the movie room, looking like a mobster at their favorite booth in one of the older films, which is probably what she’s going for.

“You did this to me,” he says, slamming the door behind him. “I’ve spent the past two weeks freaking out. So for once, don’t be an asshole: did she even say she liked the episode? Or was this whole thing just another thing where you fuck with me for laughs?”

“She said that it’s romantic,” Echo says, her tone even. She shrugs, and now she’s starting to look a little defensive, and Murphy hates that he feels guilty, because if anyone understands the frustration of everyone assuming you’re fucking with them even when you’re not, it’s him.

“Fine. Fuck. You got any ideas? And don’t bother suggesting shit I can only get on Earth. Clarke’s done that joke to death and she’s _still_ coming up with new ones.”

“Has she suggested a puppy yet?” Echo asks, deadpan.

“Yeah, actually. Have you two been brainstorming this shit?”

“Yeah. Bellamy too.”

“Shocking.”

“You’re really worried about this.”

Echo’s observation is mild, straightforward, like she always is, but the years have softened her enough that she manages to look slightly charmed and slightly confused all at once.

“Don’t make me say cheesy shit to you, Echo. Neither of us want that.”

“Have you tried movie lines? ‘You had me at hello’. ‘Here’s looking at you, kid’. ‘Love means never having to say you’re sorry’. Or…”

“You’re just saying random shit.”

“Romantic shit,” Echo points out.

“Romantic in context, maybe. Like, ‘here’s looking at you, kid’? Seriously? That’s _nothing_. And never having to say you’re sorry? Who believes _that_? That’s insane! And it’s not like context makes my thing with Raven more romantic. If they made a movie about the two of us, it’d be a weird fucking horror movie about, like, a literal goddess somehow falling in love with a monster.”

“Beauty and the Beast,” Echo says thoughtfully, tilting her head as if to examine him better.

“…. _thanks_.”

“I can do better. Give me a minute.”

“This isn’t helpful, anyway. I’m not gonna yell movie quotes at her.”

“Write her something?”

“Bellamy already took that idea.”

“Mm. He _would_ be better at that,” Echo says. Murphy laughs, because what else is he gonna do? She’s right, and he always appreciates her honesty when it comes to his ten million flaws.

“And if I wanted anything done for anyone else, I’d go to Raven and ask her for help with making something. But, obviously…”

“Emori could probably help.”

“You’ve watched enough old comedies at this point to realize why that’s fucking stupid, right?”

“Emori is not a stock character from a badly written script. She cares for you. You’re still her family. You know that. Emori is special.”

She sounds defensive, and Murphy wonders if the whole ‘we’re just fucking because everyone else is fucking someone else’ thing has finally evolved into real feelings. Then again, Echo’s relationships with everyone up here are hard won, delicate, and precious to her. He thinks she’s probably defensive about all of them.

“I know that, but that doesn’t mean I want to do that to her.”

“I don’t think she’d mind.”

“And you’re such a trustworthy source of information,” Murphy says, which makes Echo grin again.

“I do what I can,” she says, magnanimous. Murphy snorts.

“Whatever.”

* * *

He’s unsurprised when Echo asks to speak to him the following day, drags him to the movie room, and reveals that Emori is waiting for them.

“You’re a dick,” he says.

“She already told me what’s going on,” Emori says. Like with everything, she looks vaguely amused, like everything is constantly both terrible and hilarious. “I told her it would be weird for us to talk about this, but she’s stubborn.”

She sends a fond look over to Echo, and Murphy feels a relief he didn’t know he needed to feel: she’s _okay_ with this. Avoiding her became instinct after they broke up, because, shit. She may not have blamed him for anything outright, but it was pretty obvious what it was that she meant when she said that “things” weren’t the same on the ring. He had figured that the least he could do was not rub her face in the fact that she was right, and that he was happy with Raven.  

But he fucking _missed_ her. She was everything to him at one point. The only reason he had to keep fighting. He loved her, still loves her, will probably always love her.

And if she’s happy, if she’s not angry or bitter or still hurt…

He smiles at her, and he’s pretty sure the relief comes through, because she smiles back. It’s softer than she’s looked at him in a long time.

“I didn’t want to be weird about it,” he says. “Otherwise, you’d have been the first person I asked.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course. You know her better than anyone else. You know me better than anyone else, too.”

He remembers the first few years on the ring, back when he and Emori were still spiraling towards the end. He used to join she and Raven in the workshop every day, sitting in the corner and being useless, reading or watching something, keeping himself busy, listening to them talk.

And even then, it wasn’t like he knew he was in love with Raven too. It wasn’t like he gave it a lot of thought. Just that being in a room with them, with _just_ them, was everything he needed to feel okay when everything else closed in on him. They were the two most important people in his life, and they were safe.

“I do know you,” Emori agrees. She seems about as relieved as he feels, and Murphy’s left wondering, like, have they been avoiding each other all this time for nothing? They were both so angry at first, but clearly they aren’t angry anymore. When had that gone away? Has it been gone for long? Could they have done this sooner?

“Any advice you could give would be great,” he says. Echo snorts at them both, and Emori glares at her, pulling Murphy’s arm so he sits down on the couch and she can sit on the table in front of him, grabbing his hand between them.

“I don’t know why you’ve decided this is important,” she says, earnest. “Raven is…you know she doesn’t require these big gestures. Raven is happy when people want her around, and she is happy when they make her laugh. You do both of those things. She needs someone good in her life, and that’s you. I think she’s happy.”

“Yeah,” Murphy admits. “I thought so too. _Think_ so. I’m not like…I don’t think she’s about to dump my ass because I’d never heard of an anniversary before. But I just…” He glances over his shoulder and sees that Echo has disappeared from the doorway. That makes this easier. He squeezes Emori’s hand and lowers his voice. “I mean, what if it’s important to her and I’ve never realized it? What if this romantic shit is something she really _does_ need, and I’ve been disappointing her the same way I disappointed you?”

It’s gratifying that Emori looks surprised by that, and she moves to sit next to him on the couch, still holding onto his hand.

“John, you didn’t disappoint me,” she says.

“You realize I’m not, like, _Bellamy_ depressed, right? I don’t need you to…”

“No, I mean it,” Emori says, laughing a little. “You didn’t disappoint me. Maybe at first, I was disappointed and _confused_ , but it was just…the more time passes, the more I think about it…we both changed. We both grew. It just wasn’t in the same direction. And that’s…that’s okay.”

She smiles at him. It feels real. Complete. It feels like closure that should have happened a long time ago, except he was being too much of a jackass to let them have it.

“Man, I never deserved either of you,” he says. Emori smiles.

“No,” she agrees sweetly, and he laughs at her. “But it’s not about deserving. You need to stop thinking about it like that. You and Bellamy do so much moping about what you think you deserve, and it’s _dumb_.”

He looks at her, betrayed, and she laughs again.

“Unbelievable,” he says, but it’s soft. “Thank you.”

“Of course. You’re still important to me, John.”

“Yeah, uh. Same.”

Emori rolls her eyes and stands up.

“Seriously, you have nothing to worry about,” she says. “Raven said the exact same thing when I told her _she_ was important to me.”

* * *

It feels strange, later that night, sliding into the workshop long after he’s sure Emori will be gone. He feels like that whole thing is more salvageable than he did only this morning, but he doesn’t want to push it.

Raven’s the same as always, grinning at him when he walks in, calling him “dickface” in a voice that somehow speaks of love, tossing a tangle of wires at him. He sits down at the table and dutifully begins the calming work of sorting them out.

“Maybe you shouldn’t throw all your shit in one drawer,” he points out, dry, like he always does.

“Oh wow, you’re a genius,” Raven gasps sarcastically. “Maybe Clarke can send us some supplies to make more cabinets.”

“There are other solutions,” Murphy says thoughtfully, looking around the room. He’s not suicidal, so cleaning up her workshop is out of the question, but maybe he could find a way to make some kind of storage system…

He gets lost in thought that way, picking absently at the ball of wires as he tries to think of all the rooms on the ring. Surely one of them has something he can take apart. He’s not great at construction, but maybe Monty can help him put a couple of drawers into something. How hard can _that_ be? That might be a good gift.

He doesn’t realize that Raven has gone quiet until he happens to look up and sees her staring at him, her forehead furrowed and a frown on her face.

“What?” he asks. It comes out defensive, because of course it does.

“Nothing, Jesus,” she snaps back. But it doesn’t take long before she finally hedges, saying, “I just…you’re doing okay, right?” She’s clearly uncomfortable asking, because she’s about as cool with talking about emotions as _he_ is, most of the time. “You’ve been weird lately.”

“Weird how?” he asks. He’s genuinely curious.

“I don’t know. Distant? Not really like yourself. You seem like you’re trying to work through some shit.”

“You know me well,” he says, snorting, like it’s sarcastic even though it’s not.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Just some shit, like you said. Not a big deal.”

He’s mostly looking down at the wires, but he keeps an eye on her in his periphery, nervous for some reason he can’t really figure out. She’s looking down at her own work, but she’s got that concentrating face that she wears when she’s trying to decide if she should say something or not. He knows she’s not done.

Finally, she says, “you know you can talk to me, right?” The words come out a little angry. There’s a second where he’s nervous that she saw him talking to Emori and thought it was something other than what it was, but he doubts she’d be so cool about it if she did.

Then he realizes: she’s angry he’s making her say this at all, because he should already know it.

And just like that, it sort of clicks.

They’ve always been more alike than different. He remembers the recognition in her eyes when he told her the story about his parents. Remembers that her “boo hoo”, which should have been cutting, was the sarcastic growl of someone who had just been hit too close to home but was trying to pretend they hadn’t been. And everyone who grew up on the Ark slotted into one of two categories: those who had enough, and those who didn’t. Not just physically, like enough to eat or enough space to live in, but enough of _everything_.

Funny how it ended up, with Bellamy falling for the Ark’s princess as hard as he did, but he hadn’t been _wrong_ , back at the start: there was a way to tell the people who had grown up with enough, and Clarke and Wells were obvious.

Enough food. Enough support. Enough love.

There were people who cared if Clarke and Wells went to bed hungry. There were people who wanted to help them with their schoolwork. There were people who wanted to make sure they grew up to be useful and helpful and happy.

People like him, like Raven, like Bellamy, they were different. They had a survivor’s edge even before they hit the ground, because the Ark was an unforgiving place, even if the nightmare of Earth sometimes made that hard to remember. Murphy’s dad was floated for stealing medicine for his sick kid. Bellamy’s mom was floated for having a child she wasn’t supposed to. Killed for the kind of shit that made the people they left behind bitter and empty and cold.

It’s been years, but he can still remember the empty ache of hunger that used to make him so fucking angry. He just wanted something. Someone. _Anyone_.

Since he met her, even since he first saw her, Raven has always had that same fierce _want_ inside her. Something unstated, unspoken, but impossible to turn off or ignore. He can feel it coming off her in waves, now.

_You’re not alone anymore,_ her reluctant words tell him. _And neither am I. So stop making me feel like I am._

“I was, uh,” he starts. Gives himself a second to meet her eyes and work up the courage. “I was feeling a little weird, I guess. Started wondering what I’d done to deserve you. Feeling…I don’t know. Inadequate? Not enough. Like a fucking dickhead. Take your pick.”

“You _are_ a fucking dickhead,” she responds, but she’s listening.

“I guess it was bound to happen eventually. Not sure what I was thinking I was going to do about it, since I’m not exactly the type to walk away from something this good just because I don’t think I deserve it. I’m a selfish ass. That’s sort of my brand.”

Raven grins, nods, moving closer.

“It’s true,” she says. “That’s one of the most appealing things about you.”

“Yeah, I bet. Anyway, I still don’t really know what I’ve done to deserve you, but I’m not a big enough idiot to do anything to jeopardize it, so don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried,” she says, which is obviously a lie. “You _are_ an idiot, though.”

“Yeah.”

“My idiot,” she reminds him, and then she swoops in to kiss him. He kisses her back, because of course he does, but she pulls away quickly and shakes the bundle of wires in his hands, pointing down at them sternly. “Finish it up. I need some of the black wire ASAP.”

“Aye aye,” he says, saluting her with a grin.

She turns back to her pile of random scrap, and there’s a feeling of anticipation until she says, “you know I chose you, right?”

“And there were so many other options to choose from, too.”

“See, I _knew_ you were gonna say something like that! God, you’re so predictable.” She laughs and shakes her head. “I would have been perfectly happy with no one. I wasn’t dying for companionship or whatever. I’ve got enough shit on my plate, trying to get us back down there, and it’s not like I desperately needed someone to fuck. I’ve got good hands and mechanical know-how. I was more than okay. But I chose you, because I wanted you. So stop being such a dummy.”

She cuts another fond look over at him, and he knows his smile is probably a little goofy. Probably a little ridiculous. He goes back to untangling the wires.

She hates talking about this stuff as much as he does, but she managed all right. And maybe that’s the key. That romantic speech with the mood lighting and the cake and the walk down memory lane, maybe that’s not what does it for her. Maybe it’s the fact that two people can stand in front of each other and just be fucking _honest_ with each other about how they feel. Maybe it’s just _that_ they’re saying it, not how or why or when they’re saying it.

* * *

Bellamy comes into the workshop a few days later looking rattled, holding the Clarke Robot in his hands, and Murphy and Raven both tense up automatically. Letting their guard down is easy when Clarke’s life is going so much better than it was, but sometimes there are little things like this, and they’re always kind of scary.

No one’s ready to go back to the Bellamy of the first few years. And this would be so much worse.

But Bellamy covers the speaker on the robot, like he’s blocking its ears, and he whispers, “can you take this? I don’t know when she’s coming on, but Echo and Emori are going to give me feedback on the thing I wrote, and I don’t want to risk…”

“Yeah, okay,” Murphy says, taking the robot from him. “Relax. You’re sweating all over it. You’re gonna short it out.”

“He’s just being a dick,” Raven says quickly, probably to stave off the anxious line between Bellamy’s eyebrows that Murphy can already see forming. “The radio’s fine. Go.”

Bellamy turns and stalks back out, and Raven arches an eyebrow at Murphy. He sighs and answers carefully.

“He wrote Clarke, like, a love story or something. I don’t know.”

“So _he’s_ the bitch who stole my pad of graph paper,” Raven says. “Joke’s on him, ‘cus I’ve got a whole thing of lined paper that would’ve been easier to write on.”

“Sounds like the joke’s on both of you,” he points out. “Because you’ve been complaining about the lined paper for days.”

“Yeah, until someone took a ruler and turned half the pages into graph paper.”

He looks up from the Clarke Robot – on which he has begun drawing a Bellamy-style beard – and sees Raven smirking at him.

“Yeah, well,” he mutters. “Seemed better than listening to you whine about it.”

“Mhm. I’m sure that’s it,” Raven says. She kisses him on the cheek as she limps by. He tries to remind himself that this is his girlfriend, and he doesn’t have to _blush_ every time she looks at him, like a jackass.

“Your leg bothering you?” he asks. His throat still goes dry every time he mentions it.

“Little bit,” Raven admits. “I was doing a lot of duct work earlier. Emori still isn’t fond of small spaces.”

“Next time, just come get me.”

“Emori was here.”

“I think we’re, uh, kind of okay?”

If this was one of Echo’s stupid shows, this is probably where Raven would look jealous and suspicious, but it isn’t, and Raven’s the best, and she just looks _delighted_.

“Really?” she asks. “What happened?”

“We talked the other day. Echo basically shoved us into the movie room. I thought I was gonna get shanked, but it was all right. I think I was more worried than I had to be.”

“Which I’ve told you maybe eighty times,” Raven reminds him, but there’s something in her voice that’s undeniably proud.

“You’re biased. Can’t be trusted. Things would be way easier for you if me and Emori got along.”

“Whatever,” Raven says with a grin, brushing off his faux suspicious tone.

“I’m gonna go grab something to eat before the movie room. You want anything?”

“No, I’m good,” Raven says, turning back to her work. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

Murphy gives her a quick kiss on the cheek, then ducks out and hurries down the hall.

* * *

Monty already has the algae chips waiting. He claims it’s a new flavor combination that might be better, and Murphy knows by now not to get his hopes up about it, but he hugs Monty in thanks anyway, and he hugs Harper when she hands him the freshly washed blankets that she scrounged for him. They both watch him go like proud parents seeing their kid off to school.

He steals a few pillows from Echo’s room, because this is all her fault anyway, and because he knows she and Emori are probably gleefully shredding Bellamy’s love story to pieces. And as an equally dramatic and lovesick dude, he feels like he could at least have Bellamy’s back on this.

* * *

He’s in the movie room setting up when the Clarke Robot comes to life.

“I can’t tell who that is,” she admits, clearly bothered by it.

“Prepare to be overjoyed by the answer,” Murphy replies, and she laughs.

“What are you even _doing_? What’s that sound?”

“I’m, uh, spreading out blankets on the movie room floor for me and Raven.”

“Awwww.”

“Don’t even start. I had to ask Harper and Monty for help and they already did all the cooing I can fucking stand.”

“No, I mean it. It’s sweet.”

Encouraged by the apparent sincerity in her voice, Murphy decides to tell her more.

Again, it’s _Clarke_. There’s just this impulse when it comes to her.

“I’ve just been looking for ways to, uh, make it clear that she’s important to me? I’m aware how dumb this sounds.”

“It doesn’t! Honestly, Murphy. Remembering what you were like at first, on the ground…”

“You don’t have to remind me. I sucked.”

“Sure, yeah, but you’re different now. I’m just saying that I never imagined you’d be the person to make Raven happy, but now I can’t imagine anyone else doing the job.”

“Yeah?” Murphy asks. He feels like a dick, fishing for compliments, but there are days when he really needs to hear it, and this is one of them.

“Yeah,” Clarke responds. “I mean it. I’m proud of you, Murphy. You’re so good for her. Raven deserves to be happy. I’m _so_ glad she is.”

“Thanks, Clarke,” he says. He feels a tightness in his chest at the thought of her sitting in the rover down on Earth, alone and lonely. He knows that they help her, that Raven’s Clarke Robot invention has her feeling connected and happy, but there must be moments when it feels overwhelming. When she misses them. When she misses Bellamy, especially. The fact that she’s still willing to talk through his own fucking issues means a lot.

But he’s Murphy, so he doesn’t say that. He swallows the tightness in his chest and pretends that it isn’t there.

“For the record, I think you could do better,” he says, and Clarke laughs, delighted.

“Oh yeah?” she asks.

“Hundred percent, yeah.”

“Literally impossible. And not just because there’s a lack of other options.”

“Right,” Murphy laughs.

“I mean it. Bellamy’s perfect. It would be impossible to do better even if he wasn’t the last person available.”

“Ugh,” Murphy says. “You have terrible taste. There’s clearly no saving you. But I got a date, so you’re about to third wheel Monty and Harper for a while. You ready for that?”

“Bring it on,” Clarke says cheerfully.

* * *

Murphy drops Clarke off (opening the door to their lab, shouting “think fast”, and throwing the radio at them) and gets back to the movie room just in time to see Raven making her way down the hall.

“Sorry I’m late,” she says, melding into his side when he drapes his arm over her shoulders. He shrugs.

“Gave me time to get rid of Clarke,” he says, pushing the door open.

Raven doesn’t say much about the blankets and pillows on the floor, but she smiles at him, and there’s something in her eyes that speaks of deeper feeling. She kisses him before she sits down, and she watches him fondly as he removes her brace and sets it aside, helping her to stretch out her leg.

“Look at you,” she says, snuggling up to his side when he holds his arm out to offer it, and he rubs idly at her hip, working his way down her thigh, massaging what he can reach as he calls up the archives on the viewscreen. “What’s the occasion?”

“Figured you could use a break,” he says, playing it casual, because it’s not even like it’s not true. Everyone knows how hard Raven has been working on trying to figure out how to get them back down to Earth. No one knows it better than him. If he can’t help her with the math or the science or the bigger issues, at least he can do this.

“You’re the best” she says, propping her head up on his shoulder and sighing with obvious contentment. He could listen to it literally all day.

But he’s got a plan.

Maybe it’s a little cheesy, but this whole thing has been cheesy, and if it’s what she’s into…

They’ll watch the episode, and once it’s over, once she’s all sucked in and feeling romantic, he’ll do a little proposal of his own. He’s not even sure yet what he’s going to say, exactly, because he’s never been like Bellamy. Never good at the big speeches. Never good at coming up with the right words. But Raven loves him, and he loves her. He’s pretty sure that if he looks at her and sees her eyes all filled with emotion from the stupid Sara and Annalyn love fest, he’ll know exactly what to say.

He loves her. He wants to marry her. He wants to tell her exactly how much, and he wants to explain to her how she has changed him, how she has helped him, how she has _saved_ him from the Murphy he used to be. The parts of his development that aren’t thanks to Emori are thanks to her, and he’s so much happier than he ever believed he could be. She deserves to know exactly how much he credits her with that.

Maybe it wasn’t love at first sight. Maybe he can’t ever give her a traditional love story. Maybe their story is a little horrifying if you look at it from the outside. But he loves her, and she loves him, and he knows that with her by his side, going forward will be so much better than the past.

It’s a perfect plan. In theory.

Except, _Jesus_. He thought Echo had gotten him good in the past, but this is on a whole other level.

Even as he’s furious, even as it’s happening, he has to respect it.

“Oh my _God_!” Raven exclaims happily, snuggling closer once the episode starts, and so far so good. “I _love_ this show. It’s so fucking garbage. Is this the episode with the anniversary proposal?” When he nods, she cackles, reaching for the algae chips. “You’re a genius. This is exactly what I needed. Ugh, it’s so _romantic_.”

And, okay. So, technically Echo didn’t lie. Raven apparently really _does_ think this shit is romantic, and that’s exactly what Echo told him.

In hindsight, it was exactly what Echo _carefully_ told him without any additional details.

Because the way Raven says _romantic_ is the same way Clarke says _snakes_ or the same way Echo says _Skaikru_ or the same way Harper says _clowns_ or Bellamy says _The Flame._ Like it’s the number one thing she can’t stand.

Then she says, “we have to throw algae chips at the screen and boo when they say corny shit. It’s the best part,” and she’s smiling brightly at him. And, okay, so maybe it’s not exactly what he planned. Maybe he’s been freaking out and letting this ruin his life for weeks and now he’s realizing that he shouldn’t have bothered. Maybe this is the biggest prank Echo has ever pulled.

But Raven is _happy_.

_I’m a fucking idiot_ , he thinks, but he pauses the show and kisses her. And, per Harper’s suggestion, he _does_ go down on her. And then they resume the episode, and they boo and throw algae chips, and he tells Raven that she’s a genius, and that she’s perfect, and that he loves her.

But he does it naturally, in the way he always has.

_You’re a fucking genius. It’s annoying._

_Shut the fuck up. Why are you so perfect?_

_Ugh, why do I love you again? Jesus._

She gives as good as she gets, as she always does, and she makes fun of him and then blows him and then wraps herself around him, hugging him tight, and they doze for a bit on the floor until her leg starts cramping up, and then they go back to their bunk where he gives her a proper massage and eats her out again (because, seriously, like he said: Harper’s underrated. She’s a genius).

He can’t help it, later, when they’re both sated and sliding towards sleep.

“You know,” he says. “Those two idiots on the show made me think.”

“Always dangerous. Okay. Hit me.”

“When we get back to Earth, if there’s ever an actual society again? And if somehow we haven’t murdered each other yet and you actually agree to marry me, I’m totally taking your last name.”

“ _What_?” Raven laughs fondly. “Five out of six people on this ring call you _Murphy_ exclusively. You call _yourself_ Murphy, so that’s six out of seven. And you want people to start calling you _Reyes_?”

“Reyes means _king_. It’s way cooler.”

Raven rolls her eyes and kisses him.

“Don’t be dumb. When we get married, we’re keeping our last names. It’s so much easier. Don’t let that old school bullshit go to your head.”

She snuggles closer and closes her eyes, a fond smile still on her face.

Murphy may or may not stay up for a long time after she’s fallen asleep, smiling goofily up at the ceiling, still hearing her voice saying _when._

* * *

_Jus drein jus daun_ isn’t generally a philosophy Murphy lives by, but it rings in his head when he goes to Raven a few days later. He hasn’t admitted to Echo yet that he realized she was fucking with him, because the surprise strike seems more fitting. But blood must have blood. Or, like, one prank must be met by another, or something.

“I can’t tell you why yet, because it makes me look like a dumbass, and I need you to respect me at least enough to let me fuck you, but I need your help with something,” he says. Raven grins wolfishly and sets aside her work, storing her wires carefully in the new drawers that he and Monty made her. He can see the tension in her shoulders, and he knows that this prank will be good for her, too.

Which is how she ends up helping him temporarily remove all of the entertainment from the archives, keeping them safely stored away in an alternate storage device just long enough for Echo to lose her fucking mind.

* * *

It all sort of rounds out nicely, and it’s almost suspicious how well things are going for him lately, but he’s not going to question it. He stops in the doorway to the workshop, hearing voices when he expected only Raven to be there. But it’s Raven and Emori together, and Emori is giggling about something, looking light and happy while Raven cackles, leaning back in her chair.

They’re both beautiful, and perfect, and he has loved them both. Still loves them both, in ways that are both different and similar. And it’s nice to look at for a second, even if he’s hesitating, even if he’s not sure he should go in.

“It was so funny,” Emori’s saying. “I love them both, but I couldn’t deal with it. I almost lost it, like, three times. My back _still_ hurts from...”

Murphy turns to go, but his shoe squeaks a little on the ground, and they both look up at him.

A heartbeat passes, and he sort of half-waves, hating himself. Emori tilts her head slightly, the gesture inviting him in, and his stomach unclenches for the first time in maybe years.

He joins them, taking his old seat in the corner after kissing Raven on the side of the head and flicking Emori’s nose as he walks by, and they both look at him with measures of fondness that he still can’t quite believe.

“So what’re we talking about?” he asks.

Just like that, it’s perfect. He really _has_ been avoiding this for too long. This is everything he needed. Emori lights up.

“I was getting some water last night in the kitchen, and Bellamy wandered into the common room with Clarke. For some reason I thought it would be a good idea to hide in the empty cabinet under the sink?” When Murphy laughs loudly at her, Emori puts her forehead down on the desk and groans while Raven laughs at her. “I _know_. I thought he’d go back to his room, but they were just _talking_ out there, and crying, and it was _so awkward_. But I hid in there until he was gone. Which felt like _forever_.”

“Did he read her that story?”

“The whole thing, John! And they cried _so_ _much_ about it.”

“You’re lucky it was crying,” he points out. Emori shudders.

“I was _in terror_ that it was going to take a turn,” she admits, and Raven cackles again, patting Emori reassuringly on her head.

“Luckily they’re both romantic _saps_ ,” she says idly.

“Yeah, definitely,” Murphy says. “Losers.” It’s only really ironic to he and Emori, and she glances over at him with a significant look that has him grinning back.

But Emori’s not a snitch, so she doesn’t tell Raven about the spiral that Murphy was in when he thought that romantic sappiness was what she wanted from him.

She also doesn’t give in to the (probably potent) desire to hit him with _I told you so_.

And it’s just… _nice_.

They still have to figure out a way to get back down to Earth.

Clarke and Madi still aren’t totally safe, and they’re still lonely, and Bellamy still stares down at the spot of green longingly when Clarke’s voice isn’t tethering him to Earth the way he needs it to.

And Murphy doesn’t think he’ll ever _really_ believe he deserves this.

But he and Raven are together, and he and Emori are doing better, and they both _care_ about him in a way that nobody before them ever has.

He doesn’t deserve it. He knows he doesn’t. But he’s going to hold onto it with everything in him, and he’s going to fight for it, and he’s never going to take it for granted.

It has taken him this long to be truly happy, and he’s going to do whatever it takes to make sure he stays that way.


End file.
